


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by millionstar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, i cant stress that enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to consider an Arthur who struggles greatly with the fact that he and Merlin are forced to keep their relationship secret; this fic explores that notion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies and Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my LJ on 01/31/13.
> 
> Title borrowed lovingly from the Muse song of the same name because it fit so perfectly.

It's late at night when Merlin makes his way to Arthur's chambers, so late that surely everyone else in the castle is fast asleep. He is exhausted, but still, Merlin walks with a spring in his step, for these are the nights that he gets to spend a bit of extra time with Arthur behind closed doors.

On this particular night, though, Merlin opens the door and can see instantly that something is off. Arthur is, once again, fully dressed, three bags at his feet, packed full to overflowing. Merlin quirks an eyebrow at him as he allows Arthur to pull him into his arms for a kiss, hoping for an explanation as to just what is happening. 

"Your clothes weren't on when I left you last. What are you playing at?" Merlin teases, Arthur swatting him playfully on the backside. Merlin's laughter echoes through the room as Arthur presses another kiss to Merlin's cheek.

"Do you think you can sneak into your room to pack a few things?"

"Pack? Why? What's going on?"

"We're leaving."

"For where?"

Arthur releases him and continues to scan his chambers as though he is in search of something. "Anywhere. Away from here. I've packed us some provisions and supplies to tide us over until we-"

"Arthur, wait, please. Talk to me?" Merlin is aghast, completely stunned at what he sees happening right in front of him. 

"Has something happened?" 

"We're going away from here, somewhere we-" Arthur smiles, his eyes child-like and full of hope, "somewhere we can be together, finally. Away from prying eyes and interlopers, from responsibilities and expectations."

"But, we can't do that," Merlin laughs, "it's ridiculous." The smile leaves Arthur's face instantly and is replaced with indignance. 

"Ridiculous. I thought you would be pleased. I thought you wanted this... that you wanted me."

"Arthur. You're _all_ I want. There's not a moment that goes by where I don't want you or I'm thinking about you in one way or another. You know that by now, surely."

"And you are all that _I_ want. So why can't we take what we want for a change, the rest of the world be damned? Why is that so wrong?" Arthur reaches for Merlin's hands, imploring him, while at the same time breaking his heart; Merlin wonders if the prince knows the power in his words.

"It's not wrong," Merlin shakes his head as Arthur kisses his knuckles. "But Arthur, Camelot needs you-"

"Damn Camelot, and damn Albion," Arthur hisses, careful not to wake anybody nearby, "damn them both to hell." 

Merlin panics, a sea of words doing battle in his mind: words like destiny and fate and forever. He struggles to find a way to make Arthur understand it without saying it in simple terms. "You don't mean that." 

"Stop presuming to tell me what I do and do not mean, Merlin."

"You are Arthur _Pendragon_ , you are destined for great-"

"It's a name," Arthur says, throwing his hands in the air, "and nothing more. A name. If only I could shed myself of it, I would."

"Don't say that."

"I would do it in a heartbeat, because it is the one thing that keeps me from you."

Merlin's insides quake at the admission, at the knowledge alone that Arthur would even consider doing such a thing in the name of the love he has for Merlin. There have been other instances like the one tonight, where Arthur longs for more than what he and Merlin are able to share to the point of acting out to express it. It's a recurring storm that they've learned to navigate in their relationship, but Arthur has never taken it this far before. 

Never has he even so much as hinted that he and Merlin should run away together before tonight. 

"Do you know what my father would do if he were to ever find out about us? What he would do to you, in particular?"

Merlin winces, his head drooping slightly because he knows fully well what Arthur is going to say. It's a low blow, one that Arthur is momentarily ashamed that he is dealing, though he deals it nonetheless. 

"There are many things I could bear, but I could not bear that, Merlin. Be assured," Arthur whispers, his voice shaking, "that I could _not_ bear a life without you in it."

"Arthur, ple-"

"Why aren't you helping me with these bags? Why are you just standing there?"

"There will come a day when Uther will no longer be king," Merlin stresses, "and when that day comes, it will have made all of the waiting worth it. We just have to be patient a bit longer and-"

"No," Arthur shakes his head, still shoving items into a bag, "patience has gotten us nowhere. It's time to act."

"I know you, my love." A lone tear falls across Arthur's cheek at the endearment, for it's one that Arthur doesn't get to hear very often. Merlin's hands hold firm to Arthur's own as he chooses his words carefully. "And I know you don't mean that. It will be okay."

"None of this is okay. Keeping what we share secret is not okay. Not being able to tell my father, my people how much I am in love with you, Merlin," Arthur pleads, "it's simply _not_ okay. Don't you get tired of having to leave me at night so Gaius will be none the wiser? Of not having the freedom to simply be together?" 

"You know I do." 

"We can't even wake up in each others arms. Doesn't it break you," Arthur asks, "doesn't it just break you down until you feel you could go _mad_ with it?"

"Arthur, please-"

Arthur continues to speak as though Merlin hadn't spoken at all. "I have a recurring dream where I wake in the morning and you're still here with me. The sunlight bathes your face and I'm so content simply to watch you sleep but then the gods smile on me and you begin to open your eyes - and that's when I always wake up. Every time. I never get to watch you wake up, to see your eyes." He bows his head suddenly as though he's exhausted, resting it against their clasped hands. 

Merlin bites back tears of his own, instead opting to press a kiss to Arthur's hair. 

"I want to see them, Merlin," he mumbles shakily. "In the sunlight. In my arms."

"You mean this, don't you?" Merlin says softly. "You would walk away from your birthright, from everything... for me?"

Arthur finally raises his head, revealing tear-stained eyes that bore into Merlin's own. 

"I would do anything for you. For us." 

Arthur speaks as though the statement were as real and as true as if he were commenting that the sky was blue or that water was wet. He speaks it in a manner that conveys that it is not a wish, it is simply what Arthur lives and breathes. His prince has laid his very soul bare here tonight; it makes Merlin all the more aware that there are things

_(such great things)_

he still withholds from the man he loves and he has to look away for a moment as he chases the guilt away.

Before he can collect his thoughts Arthur pulls him close, wrapping his arms around Merlin so tightly that the warlock can barely breathe. Arthur exhales shakily against Merlin's neck and presses a kiss to it, the simplest of acts pulling Merlin into turmoil. Try as he might to fight it, Merlin begins to wonder if this life Arthur wants for them could be possible after all, destiny be damned.

Merlin wants. 

He wants so much.

He wants the same things Arthur does, things that he never in a thousand years dreamed he would desire and yet here he is, living something that is terrifying and exhilarating and such a part of him now that he feels he might die if their bond were ever severed. It hasn't been easy, no, but it _has_ been a revelation for Merlin, a veritable hands-on lesson in how critical the love of someone special can be when nurtured and cultivated.

But, Merlin knows. 

He knows too much.

He knows that there is Camelot, that there is the promise of restoring magic in Albion, and a throne which sits in a great hall below them that someday will be Arthur's. Could the promise of that sort of eternal glory, Merlin wonders, compare to a lifetime with Arthur alone, somewhere far away, filled with love and affection? Or could they manage, somehow, to live both lives in a fulfilling manner if they remain in Camelot? Can duty and devotion mingle without one tainting the other?

Merlin is willing to try and find out. 

He pulls his prince back to the bed and sits him down. Arthur looks so weary and defeated, so exhausted with worry, that Merlin can't bear it. Merlin kneels, Arthur lifting his foot automatically for Merlin to remove his boots, first one, then the other. Arthur shrugs out of his coat then, and the gesture is symbolic, an indicator that the storm has passed as quickly as it came into being, for they find themselves mimicking the same nightly routine they indulged in mere hours earlier. 

It's only when the candle is extinguished and they are in each other's arms beneath warm blankets that Merlin speaks. "Don't ever think that I don't want you, Arthur."

Arthur says nothing, content to reach up to caress Merlin's face.

"I want you and I love you more than anything," Merlin confesses, turning his head to press a kiss to Arthur's wrist. 

"I get so tired, Merlin," Arthur whispers, "and then it turns into a hopelessness that I can't shake."

"There's no shame in that, though. I get that way too." 

_You have no idea just how often I do._

Arthur burrowed deeper into the blankets, allowing himself to be pulled into Merlin's arms. "Stay with me till I fall asleep?" 

"Of course." 

Merlin does.

Merlin always will.

When Arthur wakes the previous night's events flood his mind before he ever opens his eyes. For a fleeting moment he doesn't want to open them at all, the pull of reality being one that he is loath to give into until he absolutely must. 

He concludes that Merlin is right, that there's no shame in the occasional bout of frustration he experiences. Arthur knows he can be stubborn and impatient and difficult but he also knows that he is incredibly fortunate to have Merlin by his side, for Merlin alone is the one who can chase those sensations away. 

Despite being so lost in his thoughts, Arthur senses that something is amiss and can't suss it out at first, but then he realizes that an impossibly warm body is curled up next to him. He opens one eye slowly and is greeted with the sight of faint sunlight spilling onto his pillows, and more specifically, onto Merlin. Black hair, while mussed with sleep, shines, and skin that Arthur knows firsthand to be softer than silk reflects light as perfectly as Arthur had suspected it might. 

This is new for them, to wake in each other's arms. Arthur is desperate to hold onto this moment at all costs. 

It's when Merlin slowly opens his eyes, however, that Arthur's heart skips a beat. In this sort of light, Merlin's eyes are clear and blue as they catch sight of Arthur's own. Arthur can't look away, he's afraid to blink, afraid that he will wake up too soon, for surely this is a dream, even if it's a particularly satisfying one. But then Merlin scoots closer to him and presses his lips to Arthur's own and suddenly it doesn't matter if it's a dream or not, because it's fantastic either way.

"Merlin?" he whispers, awe dotting his features, as a sleepy, bashful smile graces Merlin's lips. "How? I-"

"Shh," Merlin chastises him as he presses his fingertip to Arthur's lips, "it's early yet, let's go back to sleep for a bit before I have to go back to my room." 

Arthur nods, his sleep-soaked eyes full of love and affection; it's a look Merlin covets and cherishes. Indeed, his very heart craves these moments.

The prince is asleep again in minutes, and as soon as he is snoring softly, Merlin breaks the spell, the false sunlight he had cast disappearing with one flash of his eyes. Slowly, he disentangles himself from Arthur's arms and dresses, stopping at the door to look back longingly at his lover before he walks out.

A sickness churns in the pit of his stomach at the deception even though he will tell himself over the course of the next few days that it was a necessary one. He uses his magic to keep Arthur safe, after all - and what he just did in the darkness of Arthur's chambers certainly was born with the intention of comforting Arthur.

As Merlin gets comfortable in his own bed as the real and true sun begins to rise he has a good inkling of how the day will go. As soon as they have a moment alone, Arthur will tell him that he had the most wonderful dream last night. Merlin will play along and ask him for details. Perhaps they will steal away for a kiss or two behind closed doors. 

Merlin will remain silent, content to nod and smile and listen. He's gotten rather used to Arthur having no idea of the lengths Merlin goes to in order to give the prince even a moment of happiness. He possesses the power to harness the very sun for Arthur, and yet he will stumble through his day, he will perform his menial tasks and appear, to most people in Camelot, to be merely Arthur's idiot servant. 

Most of all, however, he will keep to himself the fact that he longs to be so much more.


End file.
